


Hush

by tenscupcake



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2020158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenscupcake/pseuds/tenscupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose and the Doctor get frisky at a hotel room in the middle of the night and struggle to keep quiet, for fear they might wake the sleeping coworkers they're stuck sharing the room with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush

**Author's Note:**

> Why, yes, this _is_ basically cracky PWP. And yes, I _am_ procrastinating writing CS. 
> 
> This little plot bunny popped into my head while I was in the lab (strangely enough) a few days ago. Hope you enjoy! :P

Dimly glowing green numbers read three in the morning. And it’s three nights. Three bloody nights they’ve all been stuck sleeping in the same cramped hotel room. Three nights Rose has been tossing and turning, waking every hour on the hour. She’s going to keep her credit cards in her pockets at all times, from now on. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been relying on them for events like this, and when they were stuck combining what little cash they can muster, they ended up here. Sharing a hotel room on the far end of Europe, chasing after a lead that had taken them nowhere. Propping herself on her elbow, she sighs with useless longing at the dim sight of the Doctor next to her, sound asleep.

Only the light sneaking around the closed curtains of the window next to their bed illuminates the view, a soft blue glow of moonlight lighting up half his face and shading the other. Lips are parted as they always are when he falls asleep beyond the point of exhaustion, one hand rests on his chest, rising and falling atop a plain white t-shirt, and his hair, is of course, a beautiful mess against the pillow. Allowing her eyes to drift lower, she finds he’s shoved off the layers of sheets and blankets that still cover her body and lies only in his pants and bare feet, and smiles to herself, remembering how much he’d complained about being hot after their first night together. One of many things he’s had to get used to.

Glancing around the room, she can just make out Jake’s sleeping form bundled on the couch, and Ethan’s closed eyes on the bed just a couple feet from theirs. Freezing with a cringe with each small creak and knock of the mattress under her, she scoots closer to the Doctor, slips out from beneath the heat of the blankets to snuggle against his warmth. Jake’s warning echoes through her head, the one he’d only half-jokingly shouted just before they’d gone to bed the first night.

“ _No shaggin’, you two!”_ He’d thrust a finger at them as they sat down on the bed nearest the window, claiming it.

_“Yeah, none o’that,”_ Ethan had chimed in, a playful grin on his face.

_“What, you think we’re animals, or something?”_ Rose had defended them. The Doctor just pulled at his ear and refused to meet any of their eyes until they dropped the subject, but he definitely took it to heart. Three days and he hasn’t given her anything aside from pecks on the lips.

But, she can’t bring herself to heed their warning any longer.

It’s only been three months they’ve been together in this universe, only a few weeks they’ve been comfortable enough for sex, and she wasn’t ready for this unexpected hiatus.

Easily her hand finds its way to the hem of his shirt, fingers slipping under the fabric until his stomach is splayed out beneath her, palms and fingertips grazing a pattern over warm skin. Her eyes watch his face, waiting for him to stir. It’s only when she’s met with the tufts of hair on his chest that that he wakes with a heavy breath, as she watches as his mouth seals shut and his heavy lids reluctantly open. His gaze drifts between the now stilled hand beneath his shirt and her eyes a couple times, sleep and confusion in his eyes. Blinking rapidly a couple times, he regains enough alertness to speak.

“What is it?” he whispers, and it’s too loud, covering up the muted, steady breathing of their sleeping coworkers she’s relying on.

“Shhh…” she hushes him, barely audible, before her lips prevent his from asking more.

He’s tired and his kiss is hesitant and chaste, face tense against hers. They never snog at work (at least not in plain sight) and she knows he’s thinking of the others, their lack of privacy, Jake’s words forbidding anything amorous happening between them. Thoughts she wants – no, _needs_ him to forget.

Trailing her hand from under his shirt, she takes his cheeks in her hands, coaxes his rigid jaw to slacken with soft strokes of her thumbs as she tugs on his bottom lip, pleading with him. Slowly he yields, parting his lips against hers, and he’s drowsy so his kiss is sloppy but he’s waking up, a warm hand landing on the small of her back as he pulls her snugly against him.

It’s not enough.

With what flicker of green light he’s given her, she climbs onto him, hands roaming over his chest, legs straddling his hips, while she ignores the dull creak of the bed at the movement. He stifles his sigh of relief, it catches in his throat as his hands course down her sides and under her shirt, desperate for her skin, and suddenly she knows he needs this, too.

Forgetting the two men in the room for just a moment, she grinds her hips down onto his and it’s only his boxers and her thin knickers between them and both of their hushed noises, muffled further by each other’s mouths. She chases the pleasure, encouraged by the way he’s hardening beneath her, rutting into him again.

The mattress squeaks, and it might as well be an alarm in the otherwise silent room.

His lips freeze against hers, hands rush to her hips, securely grasping her bare, searing skin, holding her still. Quietly she breaks their kiss, stares into his eyes, moonlight glinting off black pupils as he only shakes his head, silently but vehemently. Her forehead creases and her bottom lip pouts and he nods to the others, telling her with one movement the only reason for the rejection. One of them snores and she rolls her eyes, but rolls gently off him anyway, his hands disengaging as she lands silently back on the sheets without a creak from the bed.

The countertop in the loo comes to mind, and she’s about to get up and drag him to it with her, where at least a thin layer of wood would separate their noises from the sleeping blokes. But she hasn’t the time. The Doctor’s reaching over her, slowly pulling the bundle of sheets and blankets over their scarcely clothed bodies, the fabric hardly rustling as it comes to rest on top of them. His lips find hers again, hesitancy replaced with urgency, his hands sliding under her loose shirt (which is actually one of his) to find her breasts, his mouth quieting her gasp while her hands course through his disheveled hair.

Thumbs stroke her nipples until shivers run down her spine and her back arches, pressing into his hands. Sensing her impatience, his mouth separates from hers only to drift lower, kisses trailing along her jawline, lips brushing her throat, tongue swirling over the nape of her neck, tasting. Fingernails dig into his scalp while she tries to keep quiet but then he’s leaving marks and she calls out his name in a barely contained whisper.

Immediately he lifts his head, his hands vacate her breasts.

“Shhh…” he breathes, drawing out the sound, letting it fade into silence before covering her mouth with his, enforcing the gentle command.

Needing to hold him, to feel him, she trails a hand down his shoulder, across the planes of his chest and over his stomach, keeping one hand in his hair, greedily crushing his lips to hers as she’s only more ravenous by the second. His breath hitches when her hand slips beneath the waist of his pants, his hands clutch at her sides and there’s a strangled sound in the back of his throat as her fingers close around his length. He’s hot and solid in her hand as she starts to stroke the smooth flesh, she’s content to do it through the night with the way his fingertips are digging into her skin, the way he can’t properly kiss her back while he’s choking back his usual groans.

She tugs a bit more roughly and it’s not just soft contented noises from his throat; his lips slip away from hers and hover on her cheek, his sharp exhalations filling her ears and she hopes not the room, warm breaths carrying the ghosts of grunts and moans. Pulling him closer by the arm still around his neck, she hushes him again, teeth grazing his earlobe through her whisper. He shivers around her, his head falling to the hollow of her shoulder, and his breaths are hot and heavy against her neck but they’re all but silent now.

Unable to keep silent too long, his hands pull the material of her shirt down, exposing more of her chest and his lips connect with her collarbone, tongue tasting her again as he sucks roughly on her skin. When his hips are thrusting into her hand she gives him variety, adding a twisting motion of her fist and swiping her thumb over his tip until she hears his soft whimper against her shoulder.

She knows he’s close when a hand slips from under her shirt, sliding easily between her knees, tracing a path up the inside of her thigh as she opens her legs at his touch. It’s when his fingertips reach the damp cotton of her knickers her hand pumps faster, chasing his release more than her own. There’s a muffled cry into her neck as he starts to stroke her through the fabric, and there’s not enough pressure but he teases her clit and she’s soon throbbing beneath his fingers.

It’s when she whispers his name in his ear, hardly audible, that he comes, shuddering next to her and smothering his muted, breathy sighs of release into her shirt. It’s messy and sticky on her hand but she’s smiling with elation, because technically it’s a first for them: he’s never climaxed with only her hand and somehow, in the dark, anxious stillness of the room, it’s a milestone. Immature, unconventional, perhaps, but a night she’s going to remember.

He kisses her, and she thinks he’ll remember it, too. Satisfaction and gratitude pass from his lips to hers in his temporary daze, and she wipes her hand on the sheets without ceremony, not wanting incriminating stains on their clothes by morning.

She realizes he’d stopped touching her only when his fingers move again, tracing along the seam of her sex through the cloth, coiling the spring in her core tighter.

“Please,” she breathes, her lips escaping form his before they could devour the plea. Turning his head to whisper softly in her ear, he hushes her again, and it’s almost become a game – the deliciously forbidden touches they’re giving each other now, the unusual thrill of the dark night, the fear of one of the others waking weighing down the air.

He obliges, though, fingers pushing aside her knickers to sink into her folds, hot and slick and ready for him. A subdued groan sounds from deep in his chest as he stops her gasp with his mouth, expecting it.

Tracing circles around her clit, he’s teasing her again while he sucks lightly on her bottom lip, and she pushes into his hand, seeking, needing more. He drifts lower and she whimpers as he draws rings around her entrance until she’s desperate, rocking forward again and again until he yields. Two fingers slide into her heat and she clenches as they start to stroke her from inside, but still it’s not enough.

She’s lifting her hips and grinding down on his hand to meet the thrusts of his fingers, wishing it was his erection filling her and cursing the cheap, rickety hotel beds. His lips slide away from hers and drift down her neck, sweet caresses of his tongue between his lips driving her to madness as she suffocates her moans into his shoulder. His thumb finds her clit, swiping a few times over the oversensitive bud until her arm wraps around his back, nails digging into his shirt. All her muscles strain to keep silent, her tongue nearly bleeding from biting back the sounds trying to escape, and he’s still lavishing her neck with sloppy kisses and it’s not helping in the least.

His thumb comes down harder, massaging tight circles over her clit and she can’t hold it in: his name is on her lips again as she climbs towards her peak. It’s just a whisper but his lips cover hers again, hungrily consuming the soft sighs that follow his name because there aren’t two words he’d rather hear. Desperate for release, she grinds into his thumb once, twice, three times, and she’s writhing under his touch as heat and tremors rock through her, muscles spasm around his fingers as he carries her over the crests of pleasure. It takes all her energy, her only spare thought to restrict the noise to muffled, whispered cries against his lips. He accepts them all until she stills beside him, ravenous kisses calming and slowing to sated, loving pecks.

His fingers slip from her knickers and they lay still for a moment, steadying their breathing, listening for signs either of their roommates had heard. There’s a rustle of blankets as Jake stirs on the couch, but it’s only a few seconds before it dies away and another light snore catches in Ethan’s throat.

After they share a few tender kisses, she snuggles flush against him, his arms wrapping around her while her hands grab at fistfuls of his shirt as her face burrows into his neck. She plants a small kiss on his throat and feels his soft hum beneath her lips before answering with one of her own. He breathes out her name with his goodnight, and she’s asleep in seconds.

The next morning, she forgets about the marks. Plodding through the open door of the loo, she finds Jake fixing up his hair in the mirror.

“Can I have a mo’”? She asks.

“Yeah,” he nods, but when he catches her reflection, he sighs with furious exasperation just as she sees them, too. Rolling his eyes, he shuffles out of the bathroom, still in his boxers and socks, and she hears him ground out his frustration to the remaining occupants of the room, accent thicker than ever in his anger.

“What did I say? What did I bloody say!?”

She cringes as she shuts the door, but she knows whatever Jake says to the Doctor, she can make it up to him that night. Today they’re finally heading home.


End file.
